Bushy Brows Be Beautimus (Rewritten)
by Keys Studio
Summary: A request from YumiBaraHime. Waking up on the island after jumping ship (literally!), England has to protect Czech and make sure that the Pictonians don't get her. England x OC, language, het, and Hetalia doesn't belong to me! Nor does Czech! Hetalia (C) Hidekaz Himaruya, Czech (C) YumiBaraHime.


**I decided to rewrite this one (just cause I'm starting to get the hang of one-shots and I felt like it XD).**

**I do not own Ledona/Czech, Yumi-chan does~. And I also do not own Hetalia, Hidekazu Himaruya-sama does~.**

**[xXx]**

England glanced at the brown haired girl who was laying beside him, frowning slightly to himself. She was knocked out like a light, her eyes closed in a dreamless sleep of sorts. He had just woken up, himself, feeling aches and pains throughout his entire body. His arms, his back, his hands, his legs, his feet, his neck. Even his head. It had been painful to land on the island like they had (well he thought so, anyways). He was pretty sure that when she woke up, Czech would be hurting too, and in much the same way as him.

Maybe jumping off of that Pictonian mother ship wasn't the smartest idea, after all...

The male sat up a bit weakly on his elbow, groaning quietly to himself as a shot of pain went up his spine and made his head start to pound. He had landed on his back (at least that was what he believed since he had woken up on it), so he should have been expecting something like that to happen. He rubbed his back, sighing softly. He glanced at Czech once more and his eyes softened. "We should move to safety..." he murmured, sighing softly to himself. It was the best course of action and he knew it.

Gathering his bearings, England stood, grinding his teeth slightly in pain. He leaned down and, though it hurt to do it, picked up Czech and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. Her body was limp and her feet would drag along the earth, and there was no sign of her waking up anytime soon, so it made it a bit more difficult. A dense area with a large canopy near water sounded like it would be a good idea. The blond just hoped that his idea was indeed a good one to follow.

The man began his tedious task of dragging the woman through the labyrinth of trees, looking around for something that at least fit part of the two things he believed they needed. Some areas weren't dense enough, some didn't have a large canopy, or they had neither but were near water. He groaned to himself. He had been hoping that the task wouldn't have been as hard as it was...! But, life being life, it just _had_ to suck. He did, however, eventually find what he was looking for.

After about three hours of wandering about, he had found it. It was a small area, enough to fit a normal campfire and two to three people (well, two anyways; it looked like it would be cramped if three people were there), and it had the dense vegetation he wanted (for easy hiding places and they were filled with the berries that weren't poisonous), not to mention that the canopy above was just right, obscuring any predators (also known as the Pictonians) from seeing them. The fire was going to be tricky with the canopy above, but the blond was sure that he could figure it out, no problem. There was even a small stream nearby that had some fish in it, from what the male could see, anyways.

England laid Czech down on the ground, easing her into a comfortable position. He didn't want her to be hurting any more than she probably was, after all. Once he was sure that she was comfortable and that she wouldn't be waking up any time soon, he stood, starting to move about in the small area, looking for firewood to start a fire, even if it wasn't a very big one. By the time he had found enough firewood, he ran into a very common problem for any camper who didn't pack their supplies carefully (even though it wasn't really camping and he wasn't a camper in any way); he lacked a lighter to start the fire.

Cursing to himself in tongues, the blond forced himself to dig through his memory banks for information as to how to start a fire manually. _Come on, think, _think! he thought to himself, trying to remember. He grabbed a piece of flat wood and a long, thin twig. _I remember this much... I place the end of the twig here..._ He placed the end against the surface of the flat board. _Place the palms of my hands on either side..._ He did just that. _And... I rub my hands back and forth against the twig to create enough friction for a small fire! I got it!_ Within minutes of rubbing back and forth, back and forth, the fire was alive and hungry, beginning to slowly devour the wood it had been set upon.

"Problem one, solved," the man sighed heavily, leaning back. _I'll get us some food here in a few minutes_, he thought to himself, closing his eyes. He relaxed, his head tilting back. _Yeah... In a few minutes..._ He opened his eyes and looked over to Czech, checking to see if she was alright. She had rolled over to her side, facing the warmth and light of the fire, curling up and still asleep. She didn't look to be in pain, thankfully. He felt a small smile etch its way across his lips. _Even in all of the Hell we've been through, she still looks so..._ He paused, trying to think of a good adjective to describe the woman. He then came up with one, though it didn't do quite the justice it should have. _Beautiful_.

England stood, stretching himself out. He removed his shirt and decided to use to carry food in. He went over to some bushes, picking some berries after carefully examining each one. Once his shirt was full of berries, he walked back to the fire and gently poured them onto the ground. He then went to the small stream, reaching into the water. He was lucky to have even caught one fish, extremely so with two. He placed them on his shirt. He then found two sticks near him and used a rock to sharpen the end of each one. He then ran them through the water to clean them. Once that was done, he stabbed both fish and stood. He picked up his dirty shirt and decided that he would wash it in the stream later.

When he returned to the fire, he held the fish over the crackling flames, slowly turning them in his hands to cook them. It was a slow process, but it was making process. He heard a disgruntled sound come from nearby and glanced at Czech. She was beginning to stir. He saw her eyes open, revealing them to be a stunning shade of pale gray. Her gray orbs shimmered slightly as she looked at the crackling fire, her attention drawn to it. She began to sat up only to collapse back, her limbs tired and aching. "Arthur...?" she whispered, her gaze shifting over to look at him.

The blond male looked at her with his green eyes when she said his human name. "Ledona..." he confirmed for her, using her human name instead of her country name like she had with him. He checked the fish, shaking his head slightly when he saw that they still had a few minutes to go before they would be close to being ready. He stabbed the ends of the sticks into the ground near the fire so they would cook themselves and moved over to Czech, gently lifting her head and laying it on his lap. He gently ran his fingers through her dirt covered hair, combing out the locks. "How are you feeling...?"

"Sore and tired," the brunette answered him with a small, adorable yawn. She curled up into him, closing her eyes once more. Her military uniform was tattered and ripped in some places, England noticed. There was a good deal of her uniform sleeve that was missing on her right side, exposing her scratched up arm. She opened her eyes again, turning her head just enough to look up at the male. "Where are we?"

England didn't hesitate in his answer. "I don't know."

"What happened?"

"We jumped off of the Pictonian mother ship."

"After that?"

"I think we landed here on this island."

"How do you know that it's an island?"

"Former pirate," he told, tapping his nose. "I can smell the ocean nearby on all sides. We're close to it right now, really..."

Czech nodded in understanding. She then gave him a humored look. "Your nose isn't that powerful, you know."

"Okay, I saw it when I was catching the fish."

"I thought so."

"You couldn't let me pretend to be cool for once?" smiled the blond, his voice teasing and gentle. He meant no insult or offense by it. He was absently playing with her locks gently. Earlier that very day, it had been up in a tight bun. Now, it was down and slightly tangled, messy and well... wild. It was a nice look to her, the Brit noticed. He liked it.

"Nope," giggled the brunette, nuzzling into his lap and closing her eyes. She relaxed against him. "I'm still sleepy..."

"Can I check on the fish?"

"But you're a comfy pillow..."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Well... a little..."

With the thought of food on her mind, Czech sat up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake herself up all the way. She watched as England moved to rotate the fish, grabbing a handful of berries while he was at it. He offered them to her, and she accepted them happily. She held the berries in one hand, using the other to pop them in, one by one, into her mouth. The woman just watched him, noting how much concentration he was putting into cooking the fish. "Just what all did you do while I was out?"

England shrugged slightly. "Nothing much, really," he told her, trying to be modest. Of course, the woman gave him a look that made him confense. "I carried you here, made the fire, and collected some food for us to eat."

"That sounds like it was hard work," the woman mused, popping another berry into her mouth.

The man chuckled softly at her words. He checked the fish after a few more minutes and smiled, deeming them ready for the two countries to eat. Offering one of the two fish to Czech (who accepted it with a kind smile and a gentle 'Thank you'), he began to eat the meat of his own fish. He had been more hungry than he originally thought, tearing into the meat and ripping it from the bone. He was still gentlemanly as he ate, keeping his mouth closed and the like, but he was tearing the poor fish apart like some sort of rabid animal or a savage. When he finished his fish, he tossed the skeleton and the stick into the fire, grabbing himself a handful of berries from nearby.

Once the meal, if one could really even call it that (seeing as to how the two were used to better dining, it seemed), was finished and the fire fed more sticks and twigs, Czech scooted herself closer to England, shivering very slightly. "I'm still cold..."

"Even with the fire right there?" the blond asked, a bit surprised.

The brunette could only nod. "Even with the fire..." she repeated softly.

England nodded slightly, gesturing for the woman to come closer. When she did, he gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. She leaned against him, closing her eyes. "Do you feel warm now?" he asked her softly, quietly.

The woman nodded. "I do..." she whispered.

The two stayed like that for a while, relaxed and warm, watching as the once prideful, crackling fire began to dim down to nothing but ashen embers. "We should get some rest..." the male told Czech softly. "Is that okay with you...?"

She didn't have to be told twice. She was asleep the moment he began to ask his question.

[xXx]

The harsh light of the sun peering through the canopy was what woke the two countries up the following morning. Czech rolled over slightly, groaning quietly to herself as she tried to hide away from the sun. She wanted to sleep a little while longer, not be awake and up and about. When her eyes were no longer attacked relentlessly by the light, the brunette relaxed. An arm wrapped itself around her lazily, protectively, providing her with warmth.

"Mm... Le...dona..." murmured the owner of the arm. It didn't take much brain power to know that the one who had spoken was none other than England. He pulled her body closer to him, cuddling her somewhat. It was comfortable, to say the least. Together, the two laid like that together, still sleeping away, even if the sleep was only slight and barely there. Eventually, however, all good things had to come to an end.

"We should get up," Czech whispered softly, feeling more awake than she had earlier.

England nodded his head in agreement, lightly squeezing her closer against him before he pulled away. He sat up, stretching out his tense muscles. Sleeping on the ground wasn't as comfortable as his bed, he noted. He helped Czech sit up as well before standing. "We should probably wash up a little bit while we're at it..." he murmured softly, his words just the tiniest bit slurred by sleep. He stood, pulling the brunette up with him. He gave her a very small smile, interlacing their fingers together.

Czech returned the small smile. "I think we should," she agreed. She was then led by him to the nearby stream where the fish that they had eaten the night before once swam happily and contently. She kneeled by the side of the stream, removing her hand from the blond's to reach down and cup a bit of water. She then splashed herself in the face. She did that a few times with the cold, clear water before she deemed herself ready to dry herself off.

"Here," smiled England, offering her his shirt that he had used the night before to keep the berries and fish in. There was still a clean spot where the brunette could dry off her face at the bottom edging.

Czech gave him a small smile, taking the shirt gingerly in her hands. "Thank you," she said. She found the clean patch of fabric and began to dry off her face. Once she was done, she handed it back to England. He seemed to need it, now, as well.

The blond took the shirt back with a small smile of his own. He used the same area of fabric that she had, drying off his own wet face. He then began to soak the shirt in the water, reaching in to begin scrubbing off the filth that was there. Czech watched him, he noticed, as he worked to clean his shirt. He decided to strike up a conversation. "What do you think happened to everyone else...?" he asked her, scrubbing furiously at a small stain that some of the berries had made.

A sigh left the woman, her gray eyes glancing away. "I don't know," she told him softly. "I just hope that everyone is alright..."

England nodded his head in understanding. He paused in his washing of his shirt. "What if we're the last two... you know, alive...? Or at least human, anyways..." It was a simple question that held a very possible situation.

"Are you trying to propose to me?" teased the woman, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"What if I am?" the man teased in return, going back to washing his shirt.

"Then..." She paused, blinking slightly. She then blushed a little, shaking her head to get rid of any thoughts that she shouldn't have had. "I suppose you should give me a little time to think on it... I just have two questions for you, first, though."

"Shoot."

"Even if we weren't the last two humans on Earth, would you still want to marry me?"

England blinked then smiled a little more. "Yes."

Czech's blush increased in darkness. "A-alright... Q-question number two; How long have you wanted to marry me?"

The man pulled his shirt out from the water and began to wring it out. He stood and threw the shirt over a small branch to dry. "For a long time." And even longer than he could remember.

[xXx]

Night had fallen, the moon high in the sky and the stars littering the cold darkness. England and Czech had been wandering about aimlessly, tiredly. They were beginning to think about stopping for the night and setting up a small campfire for them to sit in front of when they saw a distant light. A flicker of flames, Czech had deduced. Hope surged through them both, the two of them looking at one another. Someone was still alive. Someone was still human.

The blond took the woman's hand, squeezing it lightly. "Who do you think it is?" he asked her quietly.

"Italy, no doubt about it," smiled Czech.

"What makes you say that?"

"I can smell some form of pasta, even from here."

The man chuckled, smiling brightly. He began to lead the way towards the promising light, wanting to see if the woman was right or not. He also wanted to see if everyone was there and well. Once they were out of the trees, they heard the ocean, pulling in and out of the shore, and the crackling of flames. When they looked, it was indeed Italy, himself, cooking something. Germany stood in front of the pair, staring at Italy in shock. One by one, each country who had been on the Pictonian mother ship began to appear, smiling gratefully at one another when they saw that everyone was alright.

England then smelled the pasta that Czech had pointed out. "Criminy! I've never been so hungry..."

Germany turned, a look of disbelief and relief on his face. "You're all here...!" he breathed. They all stood quietly for a moment, allowing him to take in the fact that all of them were safe. That all of them were there and okay. He then smiled slightly, closing his eyes. "Is good..." He opened his eyes and looked back towards Italy, the other countries following suit.

Italy glanced up, turning his head to face them. He shot up onto his feet, a smile breaking out over his lips. "Heeeey!" he greeted cheerfully. "I've been waiting for you guys! The pasta will be done in just a minute, okay?!" He laughed softly, happy as he usually was.

"Cheerio, everybody!" a voice cried out over the distance. Confused, everyone looked toward the ocean, where they saw something... odd.

It was a ship of some sort. And on its deck was a young boy, waving and smiling. "Do you remember me? I'm Sealand!" the boy yelled. "I found you by using the interwebs! I'm wicked good at that kind of thing. I brought my entire country here to rescue you!"

England, embarrassed and admittedly ticked off, stormed up to the shore of the island, yelling back, "You don't _have_ an entire country to take _anywhere_, so go away, you little pipsqueak!"

"Arthur, play nice," laughed Czech, coming up behind the blond and holding his shoulders. She let go when she deemed him calm again. They all, including Sealand, soon enjoyed a wonderful dinner, provided and cooked by Italy.

Some of the countries who had soon after finished their meals placed their plates on the ground, rubbing their stomachs happily. "I am so full at moment," mused China, one such country who was content at the moment.

"Who would have guessed that you had a vacation Chinatown on this random island," England said, directing his words towards the content country.

China glanced at him and smiled. "I completely forgot about it!" he told him honestly.

After swallowing a large mouthful of pasta, America grinned and said, "This seafood pasta is pretty rocking! Am I right?"

Sealand decided to chip in as well. "Yes, I like it!" he agreed.

England, once again frustrated by the young boy, barked, "Why don't you go home already?!"

Czech shook her head, holding the blond's shoulder delicately. "Arthur, calm down..." she told him softly. The man relaxed at her words, calming down.

"Pasta!" smiled Italy, throwing his arm in the air. It fell back to his side as he continued to sleep. Everyone just stared at the sleeping country.

Germany shook his head in disapproval. "Good grief," he grumbled. "I can never understand how he can sleep so easily."

"He's tired," pointed out Japan. "After all, he did make us all dinner. Which is very delectable, if you ask me."

"Hey, I helped too!" snapped China. "Ass!"

"I am wondering," started Russia, "about Pictonian. Why did they stop the attacking of us when Italy started talking to them?"

Everyone's reactions to the country's question showed that they hadn't thought on it before hand. Even Germany seemed a little surprised. They all tilted their heads. In unison, they said, "Yeah..."

France, ever resourceful, smiled and said, "They were probably fascinated by his facial expressions since they don't have any!"

"They are extreme," laughed England in agreement.

"They always have been," giggled Czech.

Everyone began to laugh with they two except for Sealand (who did join in after he figured that he should have laughed along with the others), Germany, and Japan. Once the laughter died down, they all heard something. Something that was... troubling.

"They're here," stated Germany, standing. Japan stood up beside him.

"It would appear so," agreed the noirette country as everyone else began to stand.

They saw the Pictonian mother ship appearing from beyond the stars, nearing the island in a flash of light.

"They're heading straight for us!" announced Germany, wary.

Sealand rushed towards the shore, his arms outstretched. "Don't worry, everybody!" he declared. "I promise that you can just leave this whole thing to me!"

England tried to stop him. "No! You imbecile, it's dangerous!" he called out to him.

"Maybe for _you_, but _I'll_ be fine!" the boy retorted. He jumped from the shore all the way up to the deck of his ship. The countries could hear him giving orders from on top of his ship. "All systems, _go_!" The ship began to move, rumbling towards a safe distance from the island and out to the open water. Canons began to rise up from the decks to their vision. "I've modified _everything_ in my land _just_ for this moment!" The moment the words left his mouth, though, he was caught in the Pictonian beam of colors, turning both his land and himself into Pictonian white.

"What did I tell you...?" frowned England. "Idiot..."

"Arthur...?" Czech gasped. "The Pictonian mother ship is getting closer...!"

The man chose that now was not the time to grieve and nodded, looking at the ship that approached. It stopped just short of the land, the glow vanishing. It had just... stopped. Then, without warning, large pipes of some kind shot up from under the water, striking back down in different areas.

"What are they up to?!" Germany demanded to know.

Buildings began to appear from the water, all once humanity's, all now Pictonian's. However, buildings weren't the only things appearing. There were also the national monuments of each present country. Lady Liberty, the Eiffel Tower, the Big Ben, the Prague Castle, and all of the others... It was painful for the countries to see, to say the least.

"What's the point in this?!" cried England.

"It's ruined!" cried France. "The Eiffel Tower is _atrocious_!"

"It's like they brought them to show us," China said.

"Wait!" Japan ordered. "This look like bad news! I think they are making their own city with this island as their base!"

"They can't," growled Germany.

The doors of the mother ship opened, allowing hundreds of Pictonians to pour out of its confines, all of the white blobs rushing towards the countries.

"Italy!" Germany called out. "Wake up now!"

Italy woke up, sitting up with his feline friend in his arms. "Why?" he asked the blond confused, looking to and fro. "Is something about to happen?" He then caught sight of the Pictonians, screaming. He stood, shaking his head furiously. "No, get away from me!"

"Italy, stop it!" Germany told him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"I haven't been this scared since I pretended to be the box of tomatos fairy!" Italy cried.

"Stop crying!" the German ordered, shaking the Italian back and forth. "If you don't, I swear I'll give you something to cry about!" He continued to shake him. "There's no crying in alien warfare!"

Alarmed, Pookie the cat jumped from Italy's arms, running off into the trees. Italy chased after it. "Wait! Pookiiiiiie!"

"Italy! Come back!" ordered Germany.

"Germany," Czech said calmly.

"Just let him go," England said when the male turned to look at them. He pointed to the Pictonians. "We have even more pressing matters to be concerned about at the moment."

The Pictonians had stopped in their tracks, watching them. They were deciding whether or not to make the first move.

"Yes, indeed, we do," agreed the German male, his gaze darkening slightly.

It was then that the Pictonians rushed forward to strike, ganging up on each country or pair of countries, wanting to thin them out as much as possible.

"Arthur...!" Czech called out, having been seperated from him. She was sending blows to each of the alien blobs, trying to fight her way through to the Brit without being turned into one of the aliens herself. She could hear England call back to her and his disgruntled noises. She could hear nothing but fighting now and the ocassional cry of horror as each country began to turn, a part of them having been struck. _Please don't be one of them, Arthur... I beg of you...! I still haven't told you my answer...!_

"L-Ledona...!" cried out England. He had been hit dead center in the chest, sending him flying back.

"_Arthur_!" shrieked Czech, her eyes widening when she broke through and saw what was happening. During her moment of shock, she was shot in the back. She could feel the transformation starting, slowly turning her into one of the Pictonians. She heard Germany cry out her name when he saw her get hit, but only faintly. She was panicking, trying to get to the Brit. "Ar...thur...!" Her chest began to feel tight, and for her to breathe was getting harder and harder. Then, everything turned black.

[xXx]

When Czech woke next, she found herself beginning to turn back to normal from being a Pictonian, England holding her now human hand with his own. When she felt her face return to normal, she felt herself smile happily, tears pricking her eyes. She leaped forward, hugging him tightly. "I was so scared... that I had lost you forever," she whispered into his shoulder.

England wrapped his arms around her in return, sighing softly.

"I was afraid that I lost you too," he told her, rubbing her back in small circles. He kissed her head gently. "I'm so glad that you're alright..." He pulled away slightly, smiling softly. "Look..." He gestured to the ocean where the monuments and buildings had once been. With Czech awake and normal again, the Prague Castle turned back to normal, vanishing along with all of the other now-normal buildings and monuments. The blond helped the astonished woman stand. "Everything... is back to normal, now..."

"It is..." the brunette said softly. She noticed the Pictonians and tensed. They didn't move to attack, however. They just looked on with their markered on faces. From the center of the Pictonian crowd rised a sphere with a girl-like Pictonian inside. She moved towards Italy, stopping right in front of him.

"Wait!" France gaped. "Who the Hell is that?!"

"Oh, what?! Now, you have a spokesperson?!" England barked, shocked and highly irritated by the thought.

"I would like to apologize for all of the trouble we've cause for you and your people," the girl said. "Our initial goal was to conquer this planet and to assimulated you to our image. But, after seeing how much _fun_ this world can be, we've decided that we do not wish to change _anything _about it. Instead, we want to thank you for changing us and for giving us faces. To show our gratitude, we will turn all humans back to their original form and transport them back to their original countries. Also..." She pointed at something in Italy's hand. "Would you mind giving _that_ to me?" When Germany and Italy looked, it was the felt pen that had saved everyone. "We do not have any of those on my planet."

Italy smiled and held it up to the girl. "No problem," he smiled. He handed it to her. "Here you go!"

The girl took it and held it against her face gently, caressing it. "Thank you very much," she told him. "I will treasure it forever." The Pictonians began to head back towards their mother ship. "We're going to go now, if you don't need anything else." She floated up then away, back to the ship as the aliens filed back inside themselves.

"Goodbye!" waved Italy. "Have a safe trip back!" Everyone was smiling, happy that it was all over. "You can come back and visit whenever you want!"

"What are you saying?!" snapped England. "We don't want them coming back here!"

Czech giggled, smiling at the sight. "We'll be ready next time," she teased softly. "Just sic Italy on them with markers!"

As the others questioned how they were supposed to get back home and got into an arguement (which was shut up by Sealand offering to take them home), Czech smiled up at England. He looked and smiled in return. "We certainly went through a wild ride, huh?" he mused.

"Yes," nodded the woman. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling more. "And yes."

England rested his hands on her sides. "A second yes?" he asked. "Why for?"

"You asked me to marry you, remember?"

"And... you're accepting?"

To answer his question, Czech leaped up, kissing the male on the lips happily, to which he returned without hesitation.

It was the perfect way to start a new day, after fighting aliens, being turned into aliens, and being turned back, was it not?

**[xXx]**

**All done! :D Happy face forevah!**

**I hope you feel better, love! I finished this just because I figured you would want it to read while you're sick!**

**~OC!Mongolia**


End file.
